


Mother Knows Best

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, and let's just assume this takes place after like 3x15, shoutout to tumblr user stileslydiamartinstilinski, title has nothing to do with tangled shhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-10
Updated: 2014-07-10
Packaged: 2018-02-08 05:52:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1929117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia's mother finally gets to meet the famous Stiles Stilinski.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mother Knows Best

**Author's Note:**

> This was written based on a headcanon/idea from the lovely stileslydiamartinstilinski. I've been working on it since she very first posted it and only just now finished because I am trash.

It took a while for Scott and Stiles have Lydia’s mother substitute for one of their classes.  And it was English, which didn’t have a great track record for teacher survival, so that didn’t bode well.  When Lydia told them, Stiles raised his eyebrows at her as a wordless reminder of what she undoubtedly knew (they’d seen far, far too many things out of story books to not be concerned by any kind of pattern like that, no matter how random).

The strawberry blonde just tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I think my vocal chords will be just fine today,” she told him. “It’s just for the one class, she told me.  That’s probably not long enough for the curse to sink in,” she added, with only slight sarcasm.

Ms. Martin was a decent teacher, one of the better subs they’d had in a long, long line of them since Jennifer Blake turned out to be a magical psycho.  When she went through the class attendance list, her eyebrows went up and lips quirked when she reached the names “McCall, Scott” and “Stilinski, (scribbled out) Stiles” - the latter of whom got a full-on smile.

The two boys in question exchanged a look.  Stiles’ was surprised, while Scott’s was a smirk that clearly said, _I think congratulations are in order._

Class proceeded as usual, they were studying a different book that thankfully had very little relation to the pack’s problems at that point in time.  They were passing the teacher’s desk when she said, clearly to them, “Boys?”

Turning to face her simultaneously, they both smiled a little apprehensively. “Hi,” Scott offered.

“Hi,” she replied, sounding amused. “It’s nice to finally meet some of Lydia’s friends besides Allison.” Her smile widened. “Please remind me, which one of you is the ‘Stiles’ she can’t stop talking about?”

The Stiles she can’t stop talking about makes a muffled choking noise. “Me, ma’am,” he said weakly. “I’m Stiles.  Nice to meet you too.”

Ms. Martin nodded approvingly. “You’re obviously much better for my daughter than the other boys she’s dated.”

Stiles looked rather like he’d just received a strong electric shock. “Th-Thank you?”

Lydia’s mother smiles at the two of them, either oblivious or kindly ignoring Stiles’ current . . . indisposition. “Off to your next class, then, boys.”

“We have lunch, ma’am,” Scott said with even more cheerfulness than usual.  Stiles’ face was really quite the sight to behold.  Maybe it’d stay put long enough to get a picture. . . He carefully guided the apparently paralyzed Stiles out the door.  

They were about halfway down the hall when he turned to Scott.   _Damn, just a little longer…_ “Scott?” Stiles said uncertainly. “Did that just really happen?”

This immediately sobered him however. “Do you feel like you’re dreaming?” he asked urgently.

“No, no!” Stiles said quickly, recovering more. “Not like that.  I mean, _what the FUCK was THAT_?” He put his hand on his forehead like he was an old-timey lady about to swoon. “Does - does that mean, that Lydia Martin, talks about me, Stiles Stilinski, to her _mother_ , in such a fashion as to make it sound like I am her _boyfriend_?”

“Evidently,” Scott said, his previous amusement returning in the form of a bright grin.

“I’m . . .” Stiles’ hand moved down to cover his eyes. “I’m in some alternate universe, I swear to god.  This _cannot_ be real life.”

He clapped his best friend on the shoulder. “Congratulations, buddy.”

The two of them walked the rest of the way to the cafeteria, Stiles obviously still in somewhat of a daze but walking fine under his own power.  Well, as fine as Stiles “The Human Windmill” Stilinski ever did.

“Should I mention this to Lydia?” he asked apprehensively.

“Do you want to die a very painful death and have your body found at the bottom of the lake?

“Point taken.”


End file.
